There’s a park in my town that overlooks the water and I usually find myself ending up there most nights of the week. It’s the absolute perfect place to think and it’s what inspired this piece. ______________________________________________________________________
I have always found an amazing sense of clarity when looking out on a body of water. Perhaps it’s something to do with the way the ripples across the surface interact with one another or perhaps it’s something deeper, something molecular and biological that reaches out from the recesses of the liquid expanse and melds with the neurons in my brain. Filling gaps and triggering sparks in my synapses, the water makes my world make sense – not for forever, but for a little while.
Once I’m under, I’ve found that the water has a way of spreading out my thoughts. Moving them this way and that until they are organized into tiny infinitesimal fragments of information that can be flicked away quickly and heartlessly, like an unwanted insect. The complex ideas and problems that, mere hours before, would not cease to obfuscate my mind have somehow been rolled up, tucked into a bottle, and thrown into the deafening noise of the ocean around me. This liquid blanket that envelops me entirely washes away my worries and like cold, hard liquor, it drowns my sorrows.
After resurfacing, I sit complacent with my feet dangling off the dock. It’s as though there is nothing but the blanket of bubbling blue before me until I realize the water has thrown its own bottle back at me – one containing a map of where to go next. I clutch this metaphorical bottle with a force more comparable to resignation than excitement. Suddenly, the elusive answers I’ve searched cities, countries, and continents for are in the palm of my hand.
But these answers, these nuggets of wisdom I so graciously accept from dear Mother Nature are not news to me at all. They are things I’ve known all along but have pushed down far into my psyche, unable to uncover because of my own stubbornness and unwillingness to move on. I was seeking the water as a means to cleanse me of my problems and I ran right into them instead, right into myself.
I realized then that the water had never given me clarity at all. It had given me redemption.